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It may not always be so
As mine in time not far away

In such a silence as I know

Stand helplessly before the spirit at bay
That I may go onto her, and take her hands saying
Or such great writhing words as, uttering overmuch
And hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands
Which I have loved
If this should be, I say if this should be
And I say that if your lips
And your dear strong fingers clutch her heart

Then I shall turn my face
You of my heart, send me a little word
If on another's face your sweet hair lay
Should touch another's
Accept all happiness from me